


In Rut

by grossferatu



Series: the skitter-skatter of little legs [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alpha Martin Blackwood, Alpha Peter Lukas, Alpha Tim Stoker, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Beta Basira Hussain, Breeding Kink, Bugs, Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M, Multi, Omega Jonathan Sims, Xeno, dirty dirty dirty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:41:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24882466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grossferatu/pseuds/grossferatu
Summary: It's time to finally fertilize all those eggs.
Relationships: Implied Everyone/Everyone, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: the skitter-skatter of little legs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1748470
Comments: 2
Kudos: 69
Collections: Banned Together Bingo 2020





	In Rut

**Author's Note:**

> Words used: cock, cervix, womb, ovipositor
> 
> This is for "Dirty Dirty Dirty"

Martin is half a head shorter than Peter, and he has the element of surprise, which means that when he slams him against the wall he actually stays.

He smells like Jon, which is distracting enough that for a moment all Martin can do is shove his nose against Peter’s neck and stay there. Jon used to smell of ink and anxiety but now he smells like moth silk and hunger and it’s overpowering, even with the scent of Peter’s own half-satisfied rut still there.

“You’re jealous,” Peter murmurs, like he’s laughing at Martin. “It’s not my fault I have better taste in gifts.”

“You… _cheated_ ,” Martin grits out, when he has words again. “You always cheat, I—”

“It’s mighty inconvenient that we all go into rut at the same now, isn’t it?” Peter says. Why is he so fucking _coherent_ , why, when he smells like Jon and when he was inside him, Martin could hear it…

Peter snarls and flips them, so his mouth is on Martin’s neck, so his teeth are resting there, soft and blunt and powerful.

“Careful, now,” Peter says. “You’ll get your turn and spawn your little spiders.” He kisses Martin on the mouth, a kiss that is mostly teeth and fills Martin’s nose with the scent of his own blood.

Martin feels him pull away only when someone coughs with faux politeness. He looks over Peter’s shoulder to see Elias, standing there with a bored expression on his face.

“It’s time,” he says. “Stop taunting him, Peter, it’s impolite.”

Peter growls. He is, alongside everything else, Elias’s primary alpha, but this mainly manifests as him getting ordered around.

Martin feels the prickles of excitement in his arms, first, his rut blooming into a driving need at Elias’s words. “Already?”

Elias smirks. “Already?” he mimics. “You’ve all been filling our dear Archivist with your horrors for ages, now. The eggs must be fertilized before his body expels them. Daisy and Basira have prepared everything.”

Martin should perhaps feel embarrassed that he breaks out in a run in the direction of the Archives, Elias’s gaze hot on the back of his neck, but he can’t. This is what he’s wanted forever, and he wants to get there _first_.

-

Daisy’s ovipositor retracts back into the slit between her legs with a wet sound, and Jon sighs. His thighs are aching from the position they’ve been forced to hold since she and Basira arrived, but he mostly feels the thrum of anticipation from what’s about to happen. His heat isn’t so bad that it’s overwhelming—that’s for later—but the remains of their slicks between his legs is a visceral reminder of just how vulnerable he is.

“You’ll be watching, then?” he manages, and they both nod. By the time Tim, Martin, and Peter get here they’ll not be thinking straight, and Jon’ll likely be gone soon after. Good to have cooler to heads to make sure the eggs don’t get damaged in the enthusiasm.

He settles back against his chair, rubbing absently at his thighs.

He smells Martin first, and he’s no longer got anywhere the dignity enough to stop the little squeak he lets out. He’s missed him so much—it’s not his fault the Eye hasn’t liked his boyfriend’s gifts as much these past few weeks—and now here he is, pushing open the door, his hair disheveled. He smells a bit like Peter.

“Hi,” Jon says, and Martin is on him, barely remembering to push down his own trousers. His kisses are biting, _claiming_ , and it’s all Jon can do to try and force his legs a little wider and take Martin’s already swollen cock inside him.

Another reason the two betas with ovipositors were necessary: dilating his cervix, so when Martin grunts and snaps his hips forwards, his knot already trapping him inside Jon, there’s nothing between his seed and the eggs waiting to be fertilized in Jon’s womb.

Jon screams, and closes his eyes, but the Watcher keeps him just aware enough that he knows when Tim and Peter enter the room.

“I guess he got here first,” Tim growls. “Lucky bastard.”

Martin just growls, intent on his task and nothing else. 

“There’s always his mouth,” Peter says.

“Waste,” Tim says. “Let’s just wait our turns.”


End file.
